Hadassah
by katzsoa
Summary: Her name is Hadassah bat Abraham v'Sarah, but most call her Israel. This is her story, from Mesopotamia's tents to statehood and beyond. I mean no offense by my depictions of the countries and nations in this story, and please forgive historical errors!
1. Hadassah of Egypt

_**Her name is Hadassah bat Abraham v'Sarah.**_

_**As a child, she lived in Mesopotamia's house. He called her Esther, and sometimes Essie when he was in an especially good mood.**_

_**Everyone else called her Israel…**_

"Esther."

Israel looked up from the clay tops that she and Euphrates had been playing with, her long hair sliding down over her eyes. She swept the dark strands away, blinking up at the tall, tan-skinned man standing in the doorway of the tent.

"Good afternoon, Father Mesopotamia," she said politely.

Mesopotamia smiled at his daughter and held out a hand.

"Come," he said. "Ancient Egypt is here to see you."

Israel smiled and stood up, brushing off her plain white dress.

"We'll play later, okay?" she said to Euphrates, who frowned.

"But I'm _winning_!" the young river whined.

Mesopotamia turned to the other side of the tent, where Euphrates's sister was sitting, reading a book.

"Tigris," he said. "Why don't you play with Euphrates for now."

"Yes, Father Mesopotamia," said Tigris, closing the book.

Israel walked up to Mesopotamia and took his hand, and they exited the tent together. Outside, the midday sun shone brightly on the mostly sandy ground, but their eyes were well used to the glare. There were worse places with far worse weather than the Fertile Crescent this time of year, after all.

Mesopotamia's house was a complex of small tents around one larger one. As they passed the other tents, another little girl, with browner skin and wearing a light blue dress, stepped out.

"Father," she called.

Mesopotamia's smile widened.

"I will be with you in a moment, Sumeria," he said.

"Okay…"

Mesopotamia led Israel into another tent, but he did not go in. Israel smiled at him and then ducked through the door flap.

Inside sat a beautiful woman, wearing a long, flowing silver dress and many golden decorations upon her head, arms, and neck. Her black hair was tied back into many skinny braids.

Israel smiled. "Good afternoon, Ancient Egypt."

Ancient Egypt smiled. "Always so polite," she teased. "Come, child, sit."

Israel sat at the woman's feet, next to the bowl of water that had been provided for the guest to wash her feet in, as was customary in this part of the world.

"What brings you to Father Mesopotamia's house, Ancient Egypt?" Israel asked.

The kingdom paused for a while before answering, her dark eyes studying Israel's wide and equally dark ones.

"Tell me, Israel," she finally said. "Are you happy here, with Mesopotamia?"

"Am I happy?" Israel repeated, her eyes wide. "What do you mean? I have always lived with Father Mesopotamia."

"I know that, child, but think about it. Do you really like living here?"

Israel thought. It wasn't something that she had ever considered before.

"It's nice enough," she said. "Father Mesopotamia is very kind to me, and he makes good food. And I have Tigris, Euphrates, and Sumaria to play with. But…"

She hesitated, looking down at her hands, and Ancient Egypt waited patiently for her to continue.

"May I show you something, Ancient Egypt?" Israel asked, looking back up at the kingdom again. "It's something new since the last time you came to visit."

"Of course, child." Ancient Egypt rose from her seat, and they went back out of the tent. Israel led her past the other tents, to a place where the land dropped into a gentle slope. The little girl pointed down into the valley.

"Sumeria asked Father Mesopotamia to build that," she said.

Down in the valley was a half-finished building, which looked to Ancient Egypt as though it would become a very ornate temple when it was completed.

"It is a temple," Israel confirmed. "When it is finished, we will live in there instead of in the tents. Sumeria wants that to happen, and Father Mesopotamia does whatever she wants, because she's his favorite."

Israel gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"I did not mean to say that…" she mumbled through her fingers.

"But did you mean it?" Ancient Egypt asked.

Israel hesitated, but then nodded, slowly lowering her hands.

"I do not want to live in a Sumerian temple," she whispered. "I do not want to worship Sumeria's gods."

Ancient Egypt nodded slowly.

"I have an offer for you, Israel," she said. "Come with me. Live in my palace. I have a son, a little boy that you can play with. You will eat good food, and you will never, never have to worship Sumeria's gods. You may do as you please while you are in my palace."

Israel looked up at Ancient Egypt with her wide, dark eyes.

"You would let me live in your palace?" she said.

"You would be treated as a true Egyptian princess," Ancient Egypt promised. "I like you, Israel. You are a good little girl. You deserve better than this."

Israel thought. Leave Mesopotamia? She was happy here…but could she be happier?

_Yes, I could._

"I will go with you, Ancient Egypt," Israel said.

Ancient Egypt smiled and held out a hand, which Israel eagerly took in her own.

_**Israel went to live in Ancient Egypt's palace, which was as wonderful as it had been described to her. She lived happily there for a long time, until one day when Ancient Egypt was summoned by her boss…**_

"You wanted to see me, my lord?" Ancient Egypt said, bowing slightly before the throne.

"Yes," said her boss, tapping his scepter against his leg. "We must discuss the way that you are running your kingdom, Ancient Egypt. We have the potential to grow into a mighty empire, if not for a few minor details."

"What details, my lord?" the woman asked, a bit wary.

"First of all, there's that little nationling that you have running around your palace. The one from Mesopotamia."

"Israel, my lord?" said Ancient Egypt. "What about her?"

"She is not Egyptian," said her boss. "She is little now, but given time she could become very powerful. She may turn against us. You must take action against that immediately."

"But, my lord," Ancient Egypt protested. "With all due respect, I do not believe that we have anything to fear from Israel. She is kind and smart, and very cute, I might add."

"So is the jackal pup, before it grows."

Ancient Egypt hesitated, then bowed again.

"It shall be as you say, my lord," she said.

"Good," said her boss. "You have my leave to go."

Ancient Egypt rose and left the throne room, approaching the guards who stood by the door.

"Bring Israel to my rooms," she said. "And do not bother being gentle with her. She is, as of today, no longer a princess."

The kingdom went ahead to her living quarters, where she stood in front of the window, looking out at her city.

"We could grow into a mighty empire," she whispered. "We could grow…"

There was the sound of a scuffle near the door, and Israel cried out as the guards shoved her to the floor inside Ancient Egypt's bedroom.

"Ancient Egypt!" Israel cried. "Ancient Egypt, what is going on?"

"Silence, slave," Ancient Egypt snapped, turning around to face the little girl. Israel gasped at the fire in the kingdom's eyes. She searched desperately for a hint of the kind, motherly woman that she had known Ancient Egypt to be, but she found none.

"You shall work from now on," the kingdom coldly said. "There shall be no more lazing about. You will start by fetching water for my bath, right now."

Israel nodded, tears springing to her eyes.

"Y-Yes, Ancient Egy—"

"Silence!"

Israel cringed.

"You shall not speak in my presence unless granted permission to do so," Ancient Egypt ordered. "Now go fetch water. Do not make me wait."

Israel got to her feet, her tears falling freely down her cheeks as she ran out of the room.

_**To be continued…**_


	2. Hadassah Escaping

_**Israel spent many more years in the Egyptian palace, doing her best to serve Ancient Egypt and her son to their satisfaction, but usually getting beaten for her efforts. She grew a little bit so that she could more easily handle the difficult work, but was kept down by her servitude. All the while, she dreamed of the life she'd once had, back with Mesopotamia…**_

"Israel!"

Israel cringed at the yell, but she slowly turned to face the young prince. Egypt looked to be no older than she, but he still treated her like an underling. His pet jackal, Anubis, was pacing about at his master's feet.

"Go down to the kitchens and fetch a leg of meat for Anubis," Egypt ordered. "And be quick about it, or else you shall be punished."

_I shall be punished regardless, _Israel thought bitterly, but she bowed and ran off through the palace.

She was not the only one serving in Ancient Egypt's palace. There were several other small tribes and nations that had been taken over by the expanding kingdom and forced into slavery, and Israel often saw them in the kitchens, working in the fields, or building increasingly towering statues and monuments to the Egyptian gods.

_They are lucky, _she selfishly thought as she entered the kitchens. _They have only known slavery, while I remember the luxury that I once lived in here… The luxury that Egypt still knows… It's not fair! I thought that Ancient Egypt loved me just as much as she did her own son. It was all just a lie…_

Israel mumbled her orders to Sudan, who wordlessly handed her the requested meat. That was all the interaction that the occupied nations had with each other: when they were under orders.

Israel hurried back to the room in which she had originally been, but neither Egypt nor Anubis were there. She sighed. _Why do they have to make things like this so difficult? I'll be late before I find him, I just know it. It's hardly worth the effort._

The young girl wandered through the hallways of the palace, only half-heartedly looking for Egypt, eventually finding her way outside. No guards seemed to be around at the moment, so she just kept walking. Soon, she came to a hill from which she could see the Nile, and the surrounding plants.

"It's so green here…" she whispered. "Even though we're in the desert. If only the people acted as beautiful as their land is."

Israel sat down on the hill and just watched the ships go by for a long time, until the sun was low in the sky.

_I remember sunsets in Mesopotamia's home, _she thought. _The sky would light up in reds, yellows, and pinks, just like it does here… And then, when the sun was gone, there were always the stars, more stars than Tigris and I could count, even on that time that we stayed up all night, we never got them all…and we were so tired the next day, so Father Mesopotamia told us that we could never stay up all night again._

Israel smiled to herself at the memory. Mesopotamia and the little girls who had been like sisters to her seemed so far away now…

_It's late, but I really don't feel like going back to the palace… Maybe I'll just stay out here and wait for the stars._

_Or…_

Israel glanced around again. She was still, somehow, alone and unguarded. She turned her head to face the opposite horizon, past Ancient Egypt's palace, where she knew that the Red Sea lay, and, beyond it, Mesopotamia…

_Hadassah bat Abraham v'Sarah, you have lost your mind, _she scolded herself. _They'll come after you!_

But, at the moment, she didn't really care.

Israel threw the leg of meat down the hill, leaving it lying in the sand as she turned and ran off towards the sea, and home.

_**Israel ran as far as she could that night, but had to stop to sleep before she reached the Red Sea. Her absence did not go unnoticed, however…**_

"She is gone, my lord," Ancient Egypt said, holding herself as straight as she dared before her boss.

"Gone?" her boss snarled. "How?"

"It seems that I was…negligent in keeping her properly guarded," said the empire.

"But!" said her boss. "You know where she is headed, do you not?"

Ancient Egypt hesitated. Yes, she knew where Israel was going; she'd gotten to know the girl well enough before she'd taken her home with her. There was nowhere else for her to go now.

"Back to Mesopotamia, my lord," she finally said.

Her boss frowned. "Mesopotamia is long gone," he said. "There is nothing but chaos in that part of the world… I do not want to be involved with those tribes. You must stop her before she gets there."

Ancient Egypt bowed. "I shall do my best, my lord," she said.

_**As the sun dawned once more, Israel was awoken, not by its light, but by a rumbling in the ground…**_

Israel sat up suddenly, blinking sleep from her eyes as she searched for the source of the disturbance. She didn't have to look far: coming down the slope behind her was an army of chariots, with a large, golden chariot leading them. Standing in that lead chariot were Ancient Egypt and her son.

The girl leapt to her feet and ran as fast as she could, in the only direction that she could think of to run—away from Egypt, and towards the sea.

_I won't go back to the palace! _she thought determinedly. _I won't! I'll escape or I'll die trying!_

With that, she waded into the water, and once it was too deep to walk she began to swim as fast as she could towards the distant opposite shore.

Ancient Egypt could hardly believe her eyes, and she held up a hand, halting her army before they reached the shores of the sea.

"She must be insane," said Egypt, looking up at his mother. "Does she really think that she can swim that?"

A soldier stepped off of his chariot and raised his bow, taking aim at the swimming girl.

"Wait," said Ancient Egypt, motioning for him to put down his weapon. "We shall wait to see if she drowns first."

"No one can swim across the Red Sea," Egypt insisted. "She'll drown."

The empire did not respond, her eyes still on Israel, who was resolutely pulling herself across the waters.

_What force drives you onward, Hadassah?_ she thought._ What is it that causes you to attempt the impossible, Israel? And where does such a force come from, when you have had so little for so long?_

After what felt like hours to both the people watching and the swimming girl, Israel's feet touched solid ground once more. She stumbled through the shallows, dragging herself away from the waves until she was truly on dry land. There she collapsed, exhaustion overcoming her as she sank into unconsciousness.

"She made it…" Egypt gasped, his voice hushed.

Ancient Egypt nodded slowly, thinking. Then, she turned to her army.

"It appears that we were unable to apprehend Israel," she said. "Return to the palace."

"But, Mother!" Egypt protested. "She is weak now. If we got a ship, we could easily overtake her, or an archer could take her down, possibly! Why just let her go?"

The empire looked down at her son, a warm smile on her face.

"Someday, my son, you will understand."

The golden chariot turned to follow the rest of the army homeward, its younger occupant still staring back at the limp figure in the distance and wondering why she was not dead.

_**To be continued…**_


	3. Hadassah Returned

_**Israel awoke much later, still very tired, but dried by the desert sun. She set off towards where she remembered Mesopotamia's home to have been. Her movements were slow, and it took a very long time, but she finally arrived in the land that had been her first home. However, once she got there, she wondered if she'd taken a wrong turn…**_

Israel walked down into the Fertile Crescent, which ought to have felt familiar, but it looked nothing like she had remembered. Instead of the neat, orderly complex of tents, there were dozens if not hundreds of little lean-tos and clumsily-made shacks. In the distance was a huge pile of rubble which may have been a building at one point. There were people, people everywhere: in the shacks, running around and chasing each other with sticks, shouting at each other, trying to sell goods to each other… It was chaotic. The people were all very small, small like Israel had been when she had first left her home, if not smaller.

One of the small people ran up to Israel and started speaking very quickly in a language that she did not understand. She backed away from him, nervous and confused.

_Who are all of these people? Where is Mesopotamia?_

"…Hadassah?"

Israel turned around and saw that there were two oddly familiar women standing behind her.

Her eyes widened.

"…Tigris?" she gasped. "Euphrates!"

"Hello, Hadassah," said Tigris. "You've grown."

It was an awkward attempt at a sentimental statement.

"So have you," said Israel, just as awkwardly. "Even more than I have."

The two rivers now had the appearance of grown women, while Israel herself still looked like a preteen. It was so strange, seeing them again after all this time, so changed.

"Well, it's not like we had much of a choice," Euphrates chuckled bitterly. "What with all the tribes taking over and making a mess of everything."

"The tribes…" Israel looked around again at the little people, who now seemed to be ignoring them completely. "Euphrates, Tigris, where is Father Mesopotamia?"

The two rivers glanced at each other.

"Didn't you know?" said Tigris. "He died, Hadassah. A long time ago."

"Dead…?" Israel gasped. "What…? How…?"

The rivers shrugged.

"Things changed a lot around here after you left with Ancient Egypt," said Euphrates. "The tribes began to come in, claiming our home as their own. And Father Mesopotamia just grew weaker and weaker, until one day…he was gone. There was nothing we could do."

Israel shuddered. She could still see her father in her mind, holding out a strong right hand for her to take.

"What about Sumeria?" she asked.

The rivers hesitated and glanced at each other again.

"…We shall take you to her," Tigris finally said. "She probably wants to see you, anyway."

"She wants to see me?" Israel asked, a bit doubtfully. "But I left because of her…"

"That may be why she wants to see you," said Euphrates. "She, well, she speaks of you often."

The two rivers turned and walked towards the pile of rubble, Israel following closely behind. They passed through the crowds of tribes, which seemed to part to let them pass. Israel was grateful for that. She didn't want to have to interact with those strange little people. Too much here was strange.

As they neared the rubble, Israel gasped again. It was the temple, the temple that had driven her away so long ago. It had collapsed, but the main structure was still discernable, and the front door was clear. The two rivers stopped before they reached the temple and wordlessly motioned for Israel to go inside. Israel hesitated, her old dislike of the temple combining with her fear of all that had changed in her absence, but she entered the Sumerian temple.

It was very much like a cave now. If there had been decorations before, they were long gone. It very was dark, the only light coming from sparse cracks and holes in the walls and ceiling, so Israel stood still for a while to let her eyes adjust.

"So," said a low voice. "The Egyptian princess returns."

"Sumeria?" Israel called softly, squinting.

"Who else?" the voice replied.

Now Israel could see the girl lounging amongst the rocks, her hair askew and her light blue dress dirty and torn. Sumeria stared back at her, a frown upon her face.

"So. Are you happy now?" she asked.

"Happy?" Israel responded, confused.

"Yes, happy," said Sumeria, sitting up. "Happy that you left us behind for glamour and riches, Hadassah. Happy that you avoided the downfall, and the destruction. Happy that you didn't hear Father Mesopotamia as he moaned your name as he fell apart. 'Esther,' he said. 'Little Essie. Why did they take you away?' He'd forgotten that you left of your own free will, _Esther. _That you _wanted _to leave us to our fate."

"I didn't want all this," said Israel. "I didn't want…"

"…didn't want to face the fact that you're worth _nothing_, Esther," Sumeria hissed, standing up and walking towards Israel. "Everything's gone now. Mesopotamia is gone, and Sumeria is done for. The Fertile Crescent has lost all of its majesty. Did you really think that you could escape, _Esther_? Did Little Essie think that she could live out her days as an Egyptian princess, safe in her palace while the world fell to ruin? Where is Ancient Egypt now, _Essie_? Where are the beautiful dresses and lush fields, _Esther_? What are you worth? No more than me. You're nothing, _Esther. _Israel is _nothing. _You shall always be _nothing_. Esther is _nothing_!"

Israel found herself taking a step backwards for every step Sumeria took forwards, until her back was against the crumbling wall.

_Esther is nothing. Esther is nothing. Esther is nothing._

"I am not nothing," she said in a quavering voice. "I'm not."

She wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but staring into those hungry, terrifying black eyes, anywhere but listening to that hateful, guilting voice…but she could not move, nor could she look away or close her ears.

"You _are _nothing," said Sumeria. "You're no better than the rest of us. No good will come of this world. The tribes are only the beginning. They're small. The empires are _big. _They wreak destruction everywhere they go. And when they come for you… Oh, wouldn't I love to see you fall. Father's precious _Esther_, at the hands of the big, bad empires! But I'll be long gone by then. I'm half dead already. You had better hope that you die quickly, _Esther_, because the alternative…"

She trailed off into laughter, the dark kind of laughter that only comes from a person who has lost all hope. Sumeria backed away and lay back among the rocks, still laughing to herself. Israel turned and left the temple, shivering. She stumbled around aimlessly for a few steps, her mind not on where she was going, and then a hand touched her arm. Israel turned to see Tigris and Euphrates standing beside her once more, Tigris's arm extended.

"She's wrong," Israel muttered. "She must be…"

"Maybe she is," said Tigris. "And maybe she isn't. Either way, Esther—"

_Esther is nothing._

"Don't." Israel pulled away.

"What?"

"Don't call me that ever again," said Israel.

"Why…?"

"Please, Tigris, Euphrates…" Israel turned to face her two childhood companions. The three stood there silently, just looking at each other, and at the years that had driven them apart.

_Where are the girls who played with tops in their tent? If I had stayed…would they still be here?_

"…I have to go," said Israel.

The rivers nodded. Israel hesitated, and then she ran towards them, her arms extended. The three old friends hugged each other, tears running down their cheeks.

_Will I ever see you again? _Israel and the rivers thought. _And if I do, will you be the girl I once knew, who was a sister? Or will time drive you further away?_

Israel left the Fertile Crescent, Tigris and Euphrates watching her as she walked westward. There were no promises, no wishes.

Whatever would happen would happen.

_**Israel continued west, but turned to the north before she reached the edge of Egypt's domain. She traveled until she reached a part of the land that had mountains and seas, deserts and plains. She made this place her home, and built a city at its heart.**_

_**She named her city Jerusalem, and, for a while, life there was peaceful.**_

_**To be continued…**_


	4. Hadassah Alone

_**The following years were a time of growth and development for Israel. Her population expanded, filling the narrow strip of land east of the Mediterranean Sea that she had claimed. Alone and without the influence of a dominating nation, she began to develop culture; language and religion. As days passed, it was easy for Hadassah to relax and forget her sister Sumeria's crazed warning.**_

"Aaron!"

Israel tugged on the camel's bridle, pulling him away from the well.

"Don't drink so much," she scolded. "Or there will be no water left for tomorrow."

The camel rolled his eyes and nudged the side of her head.

"I swear," said Israel. "All the snow on Mount Hermon could melt and flood the land, and still you would not be satisfied."

But there was a playful glint in her eyes, and Aaron could see it. He snorted.

Israel laughed. "Come on," she said, walking away with the end of the camel's rope in one hand. He followed obediently.

They walked through the streets of Jerusalem, passing through the people walking in other directions, entering and exiting the stone buildings, selling their wares. Israel took in everything and everyone with calm eyes.

She was content. It had taken a long time to settle, and many human kings had come to rule and been replaced amongst several small disputes, but this was a peaceful land now. If she had the desire to look beyond the borders of her home, she would have seen the growing turmoil outside, but she had no wish to check. She'd dealt more than enough with other nations. Here, everything was fine. She was alone, with no one to force her to work for them or scare her with their words.

Israel approached one of the merchants, who was selling pottery.

"How much?" she asked, smiling to herself as she used the language that her people had developed. _Ivrit, _they called it. _Hebrew. _It was full of pleasant-sounding consonants.

The merchant looked at the jug in question and named a price, which was probably three times as much as it had actually cost to make. Israel rolled her eyes and named her own price, which was half as much as she was actually willing to pay. The man and the nation went back and forth until they reached the middle, which was a reasonable bargain.

"_Toda_," Israel thanked the merchant, as she opened one of Aaron's saddlebags and placed the jug inside, where it wouldn't break on the way home. Not that she was going back to her house just yet.

She led her camel onward through the streets, heading towards the northeastern part of the city. Soon the buildings were behind them as they climbed up a steady slope, towards Israel's favorite spot in the land. The sun was just beginning its way down from its noon peak when they reached the top of Mount Scopus.

Israel let go of Aaron's rope, and he sat down on the ground—first bending his hind legs and then his front legs in the way that all camels do, making them appear very comical and also difficult to ride—as she walked a few yards away from him. There she stood, looking down at her city. From Scopus, which wasn't as high as some of the surrounding mountains were, she could see everything: the houses, the shops, the people and animals, and best of all, the temple.

It was _Beit HaMikdash, _the temple of her people. Built by King Solomon nearly four hundred years ago, it was a huge, square building with a wide courtyard in front of it. The walls surrounding it were decorated with gold, and it cast its shadow upon the surrounding city. At the new year holidays, Jews from all over the land came here, to this temple. It was _the _place for worship and sacrifices, the symbol of her people's religion.

_That is what it is for them, _Israel thought. _But for me, it is even more than that… This temple is a claim upon this land. This is not someone else's nation, which I am living in. This is Israel. This alone is mine._

Israel walked back to Aaron, who was napping. She smiled, and rather than waking him she sat down and leaned against him to do the same.

_**Israel slept away the afternoon, unaware of how things would be when she awoke…**_

Israel fell backwards as Aaron suddenly jerked back to his feet in alarm. She rolled back into an upright position, blinking up at the panicked camel.

"What's wrong…?" she asked. Now that she was awake, she could hear a sort of clamor… Her eyes moved back to the view of Jerusalem, and then they widened.

Her city was under attack.

A wordless cry of despair left Israel's throat as she leapt to her feet, staring down at the helmeted, spear-wielding soldiers who were chasing her people through the streets. Rocks from catapults in the distance beat down Jerusalem's walls and crushed buildings.

Israel turned and ran back down the slope and into the city, picking up a heavy stick and swinging it at the first soldiers she reached. While she managed to knock one of them to the ground, the others quickly disarmed her and dragged her by her wrists through the streets. All around them were signs of conflict: doors broken down, Israelis lying motionless on the ground, shouts and screams everywhere.

The soldiers dragged her up to the temple courtyard, where they shoved her to the ground. Israel looked up to see that she was surrounded by soldiers and her people, the sheer numbers filling the courtyard. She turned towards the entrance of the temple, where three people stood: two men and a woman. The men, one short, one tall, were dressed in battle armor, while the woman was dressed regally. Although the garb was strange to Israel, the woman reminded her enough of another queenly empire to make her wince.

"I, Alexander the Great, declare that this land is now a part of the Greek Empire!" the shorter man announced.

_I, Hadassah, declare that Alexander the Great is very humble, _Israel sarcastically thought through her fear.

The woman turned to the taller man.

"You shall have control of this land, Syria," she said. "Make sure that these people learn to behave as Greeks should."

"It shall be done, Ancient Greece," said Syria, bowing slightly.

The soldiers parted to allow Ancient Greece and her boss Alexander the Great to exit the courtyard and walk out of sight.

"You shall behave as Greeks should," Syria said to the Jews. "You shall dress as we dress, eat what we eat, and, most importantly, you shall worship as we worship."

The crowd parted again, and several soldiers entered the courtyard, bearing statues of various sizes and metals.

"These are your gods," said Syria. "Worship them or die."

The soldiers set down the statues, and Syria scanned the crowd.

"You!" he said, pointing at a young man. "Bow to your idols."

The man shook his head. Syria nodded at the soldier nearest to him, who ran him through with his spear.

"You," Syria said again, pointing at another man, who hesitated before walking up to one of the statues and knelt in front of it.

"You _traitor!_"

There was a scuffle behind Israel, and another Israeli ran up with a sword that he must have taken from one of the soldiers. He stabbed the kneeling man in the back and then raised his sword above his head.

"Whoever is with G-d, follow me!" he shouted before sprinting back through the crowd. While Israel couldn't see, it sounded like he got away, with some others following him.

Syria snarled.

"You…" he said, pointing at Israel. The soldiers pulled her to her feet.

"You're their nation, aren't you," said Syria. It wasn't a question.

"Bow to me," he continued. "Swear fealty. You are mine now."

Israel shook her head. Syria slapped her.

"Bow!" he shouted. Israel shook her head again. She did not have the strength to fight the larger nation, nor did she have the bravery to run, like that man had, but something inside her told her to keep up at least this much defiance.

Syria shoved her to the ground and kicked her before shouting to his soldiers to take her away.

The last thing that Israel saw before she was dragged off was the rest of the Greek army marching into the temple, and her people, who were either bowing to the idols or bleeding on the ground.

_What happened to being at peace and alone?_

_**To be continued…**_


	5. Hadassah's Rebels

_**Hadassah was left alone in the dark. But this alone was not the pleasant aloneness that she had managed before—while she herself was alone in her cell, Syria was always there, and her once-stable world seemed to be falling apart around her. To walk through the streets of Jerusalem now was to walk through the streets of a Grecian town.**_

_**However, Israel's enforced subjection was about to end once more…**_

It was the shouting that first alerted Israel to the fact that something different was happening. It was always quiet in Syria's prison, the basement of a building in Jerusalem. She got up and leaned against the door, listening. Were the guards still there? She could hear running footsteps…

Someone banged on the door, and Israel stepped back as it was forced open. In came a young Israelite man, armed with a short blade.

"What's happening?" Israel asked him.

The man grinned. "We have taken back Jerusalem!" he said, in Hebrew. "The enemy is vanquished."

Israel's heart leapt at the sound of the language. For so long, she'd heard nothing but Greek…!

"Are you the leader of this rebellion?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," said the man. "I am Judah Maccabee."

_He looks familiar, like that other man…_

"And the man who led you when the Greeks first took over?"

"That was my father," Judah said proudly. "Mattathais."

Israel nodded. "Let us be off."

Man and nation proceeded to the surface, where Israel stopped suddenly. There was blood everywhere. Corpses lay strewn about, mostly Syrian soldiers, but here and there lay Israelites. But they were not armed for battle… In fact, many were women and children, lying in the doorways of their own houses…

"Judah," she said. "Exactly what was your definition of 'enemy' when you led this attack?"

"I beg your pardon?"

He sounded genuinely confused. Israel crossed over to one of the dead Israelites.

"Here," she said. "This woman was not a Greek soldier."

"They were traitors, ma'am," Judah explained. "They adopted the Greek ways, and spurned their Jewish heritage."

"What will be gained when we kill our own children?" Israel whispered, stroking the girl's forehead. "They were just trying to survive…"

"Ma'am?"

_There's nothing to be done for her now… _Israel thought. _Nothing except to move on. The Greeks are gone. Let's start from there._

She rose again. "To the temple, Judah."

Israel tried to not dwell too much on the signs of death around her as they proceeded into the heart of the city. More rebel fighters joined them as they went, and by the time they reached the temple a small crowd had gathered.

_How many of you slew your neighbors? _Israel wondered briefly before shoving the thought away and proceeding into the temple. Her people needed her help now, not her chastisement.

Inside was complete chaos. There were idols everywhere, and blood from the Greek sacrifices on the holy altar, and everything Jewish was either broken or missing.

"They ruined everything!" one of the rebels exclaimed.

"No, they didn't," said Israel. "We're still here, aren't we?"

_Small and red-handed as we are, _a nasty part of her mind added.

"It's time to move on," she said. "Clean up. Rebuild. And the next time someone comes to destroy us…they won't even get a chance to knock us over."

There was no doubt in her mind that there would be others.

Israel vowed then to never stand by and simply let events unfold around her again, not while she could do something about it.

Not while there were children to protect.

_**There were indeed more attackers.**_

_**Next came the Babylonians, and Israel struck back immediately after they entered her land. Despite her efforts, her people were driven out, and the temple—her beloved temple—was destroyed.**_

_**But Hadassah bat Abraham v'Sarah refused to be held out for long. She came back in full force, driving out the Babylonians. The temple was rebuilt. Life went on…**_

…_**and just as she was feeling safe, in came Ancient Rome.**_

_**Once again, she attempted to retaliate, and once again, she lost her land and her temple.**_

_**And this time, her fate was much, much worse than anything else she had experienced before…**_

Israel felt herself being shoved up against a wall. She was so battered that she didn't even know anymore who was pushing her around. Was it Rome? One of his minions? Or someone else entirely?

Did it really matter?

"You're like a thorn in my side," a voice hissed. "An irritating little insect."

"I-I've got a wicked bite," Israel stammered, trying to sound tough and to clear her vision. "Just try and squash _this _bug!"

"Oh, you're already squashed," said the voice. "But what to do with you now? If I keep you around, you might fight back…"

There was a nasty chuckle.

"All together, you might…" he said. "…but not _separated!_"

Israel screamed as a sudden ripping, tearing sensation sliced through her body. She trembled and shook with spasms, her vision alternately clouding and clearing. She blinked, and thought that she saw several little people running away, little girls who seemed strangely familiar…

…_My G-d, _she somehow managed to think coherently for a moment. _He's tearing me to pieces…!_

"Run away, little Israel-lets!" the voice laughed. "Maybe you'll find someone who'll take _pity _on your plight…or not!"

He shoved Hadassah to the ground.

"Run, Hadassah!" he snarled. "Run away, little _Esther!_"

And run she did. She stumbled to her feet and fled, running away from the laughter and the pain, crying out to the pieces of her that were missing, her people that were lost and exiled, but they were too far away to hear, and she was too disoriented to find them…

Eventually, she fell to the ground again, a stranger in a strange land.

Her Diaspora had begun.

_**To be continued…**_


	6. Hadassah in Pieces

Israel leaned forward in her seat, her hands clasped as she watched the proceedings in front of her. It was a trial, or what the people who called themselves the Inquisition called a trial. Before the phony judge and jury stood men and women, elders and children. Their crime? Heritage.

Spain himself stood behind the jurors, calmly watching as, one by one, the victims were interrogated.

_Where are your parents from?_

_Why don't you attend the normal church?_

_Why do you refuse to eat pork?_

_Can you heal illnesses?_

_Can you perform other witchcraft?_

_Do you eat Christian children?_

_Do you lay eggs filled with blood?_

Some insisted that they, too, were Christians. Some pleaded for mercy. Others said nothing. They spat out the pork when it was shoved into their mouths. They stood firm, and Israel's heart was with those who held strong.

The answers given did not matter. The verdict was the same every time. These people are Jews, the children of Israel, agents of the Devil.

Their sentence?

Execution.

Israel leapt to her feet, straining against the guards who tried to hold her back.

"You can't do this!" she screamed at Spain. "You can't! They've done nothing wrong!"

The other nation ignored her, watching the prisoners as they were taken outside, where an enormous pile of wood had been gathered.

"Don't kill them!" Israel pleaded. "You… You monster!"

She struggled, she cried, she cursed the silent, cruel nation, but there was nothing she could do but watch as her people were tied to stakes and lit aflame, and nothing to do afterwards but cry some more and nurse her burnt hands.

_I was once a force to be reckoned with… Now I am weak, helpless. On my own, I am nothing._

_Oh, Hadassah, where are you?_

…

"_Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha'olam_…"

Although her eyes were respectfully closed, Israel thought that she could see the tiny flames of the Shabbat candles flickering in the dim little room as the woman chanted their blessing.

"…_asher kidishanu b'mitzvotav, vitzivanu, l'chadlik neir shel Shabbat_."

How nice to be able to hear Hebrew at least once a week, as a part of prayer. How calming to know that similar scenes were being played out in all of the houses in this little village, and in several other villages in Russia.

The family sat down to dinner, but before they could even touch their food, the chaos began. Screaming and crashes came from outside. Israel motioned for the family to remain seated as she hurried over to the window and peered out into the night. There she stood in horror, watching the shouting men on horseback riding by, smashing windows, beating her people with clubs… And over it all was a chilling laughter…

Israel's instinct was to run outside, but she stopped herself at the door. What could she do, except get herself hurt? She instead stood with her back against the door.

"Everything's going to be all right," she said to the frightened eyes of the still-seated family, trying to sound reassuring. "We're going to be fine…"

She wished that there was something concrete behind her words, some power that could truly make everything all right. It was difficult to simply stand there and wait for the noises to fade away, but wait she did, until silence fell upon the village once more.

Israel opened the door and stepped outside, to see what state the village had been left in.

Windows smashed. Doors broken down. Farm animals set loose and wandering through the streets, or killed. Household items discarded and broken. Here and there, people lying on the ground, moaning or silent.

In lieu of the chaotic noise of the pogrom, an eerie quiet had settled upon the village.

Israel turned around. The villagers had all come to the doors of their houses and were watching her with widened eyes.

"Why… Why are you all standing around?" Israel said, trying to sound like the leader that her people needed, right now. "Clean up! You over there, help the wounded. And you, and her, you two help him. Someone figure out who that chicken belongs to. Let's get to work!"

She walked over to one of the houses and began to gather up the broken glass from the windows. Slowly, her people began to follow her lead, to pick up their fallen possessions, round up the animals, help the wounded inside and treat their wounds.

A little girl wandered over to Israel's side and began to help her carefully collect the glass shards. Israel looked at her, and she could see the fear in her face.

_Why do the children have to suffer? _she thought. _Why do _any _of my people have to face such hardships?_

_If only we were back together again…_

_If only I knew where Hadassah was!_

_**The piece of Israel that was Hadassah eventually came under the control of England. It was relatively pleasant to live in his house, but it was not what she wanted for herself and her people…**_

"Palestine! Dinner's ready," England called from the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry," came the reply. "And my name's not Palestine!"

"Palestine's the politically correct name for your area," said England, walking into the room. "Besides, I've occupied you, so technically I can call you whatever I want."

Hadassah leaned her forehead against the glass of the window she had been gazing out of. "I don't even have my own name left," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing…"

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat? You haven't been coming to meals…"

"Is there falafel?"

"No…"

"Then definitely not. Your cooking sucks, anyway."

England frowned. "Well, _somebody's _in a crabby mood today! You should be glad that I bother to try and feed you at all!"

Hadassah didn't reply, moving away from the window and sitting down in an armchair with her head in her hands. Every now and then, she experienced flashes of what was happening to her missing pieces at the time. Just now she had received the image of children throwing rocks at her. She was pretty sure that it was from a piece of her in America.

"All right…" England sighed. "I have to go now, anyway. There's an Allied Powers meeting."

He was nearly out of the room when Hadassah spoke again.

"I want to go find them."

"What? Find who?" England asked, turning to face Hadassah, who was now standing again.

"My other pieces," she said. "I want to get them back…and then go home, back to Jerusalem."

England gaped. "You can't do that!" he said. "I've got you occupied. You can't just go gallivanting around the world, and you can't just take yourselves back, not while another country owns them."

"I have to," Hadassah insisted. "They're in danger."

"Besides, we're in the middle of a war!" England continued. "Look. Wait until the Great War is over. We'll talk then."

"It may be too late, then," said Hadassah.

England shook his head. "No, it won't. I'll be back later."

Hadassah watched him walk away, heard the front door close and lock. Then she sighed and went back to her position at the window, watching the world outside go about its business with no regard for the little nation that was kept inside.

_**To be continued…**_


	7. Hadassah Searches

**A.N.: **I'm just confusing myself on whether to call her "Hadassah" or "Israel" when there are so many of her running around. So for constancy's sake, from now on I will call the main character Israel and her pieces "Israel-let" if they are in the same room and the Israel-lets will call her "Hadassah" or just "Dassah" when they talk. Also, Israel will call her pieces "_yalda_", which means "little girl" in Hebrew.

Also, I've upped the rating from K+ to T, because of language, and it will probably stay that way for violence in later chapters.

**XXX**

Israel rolled over in her bed, half-asleep and mumbling to herself in Hebrew.

"_Sh'ma, Yisrael… Sh'ma… Sh'ma…_"

_Listen, Israel. Listen. Listen._

Her eyes opened wide, and she sat up straight, blinking in the noonday light coming in from the window in her bedroom.

It was her pieces who were speaking, her people who were calling to her, who wanted her to listen. Her pieces. She had heard their cries, but had she listened?

_No. If I had truly listened, I would be gone already, to save them!_

She had to get out of England, now. But she couldn't just leave. She had to leave England some kind of message, so that he wouldn't think she was kidnapped or something…he was oppressive, but kind nonetheless…

Israel reached into her pocket. She didn't have a pencil or paper, but she did find a hairpin. Holding the pin in one hand, she knelt on the bed and began to scrape at the wall next to the window, drawing first a horizontal line, then a diagonal down and left, and a final side to close a downwards-pointing triangle. Then she etched an upwards-pointing triangle over the first one, and then she began to write. She wrote in Hebrew, the block letters of her home, writing words that she hoped would express her farewell to her occupying nation.

When she had finished, she lightly blew the spare dust away from the letters and reread what she had written.

_Sh'ma, Yisrael. Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad._

_Listen, Israel. The Lord is our G-d, the Lord is One._

This phrase stood beneath the six-pointed star, the star that had marked the Shield of David, one of her favorite kings. Inside the star itself she had signed her name, הֲדַסָּה, Hadassah.

Israel left the door to her bedroom—_the _bedroom; it wasn't hers anymore—and walked downstairs. She approached the front door, which opened before her hand even touched the doorknob, revealing England, who was standing there with a slightly surprised expression on his face.

"You… You're going after them, aren't you?" he asked.

Israel nodded. "And you can't stop me."

"Oh, I'm not going to try to stop you, Israel."

Israel's eyes widened. "Did you just call me…?"

"Israel, yes," said England, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I…see no reason why you shouldn't be a full nation, and…and I've decided to support your endeavors. Just be careful out there, won't you?"

Israel continued to stare at him, barely able to believe her ears. Then a wide smile spread across her face and she threw her arms around his torso.

"Thank you," she whispered. "_Toda rabah._"

"Er, right…" England awkwardly patted Israel on the back before shoving her away. "Get out of here before I change my mind, all right?"

Israel nodded, and then she turned and ran down the front steps, up the street, and out of sight. Even after he could no longer see her, England remained standing in the doorway of his house, watching where she had been.

"Good luck, Dassah…"

_**The world that Israel travelled through was one ravaged by world wars, but she pressed on in search of her pieces. The nations that she visited, however, were hardly welcoming…**_

Israel kept a wary eye on her surroundings as she walked down the Spanish street. She could remember horrible things here, terrible murders at the hands of the Inquisition's trumped-up "justice." Things had quieted down since then, but caution would still be wise.

Someone stepped right in front of her, and she barely managed to stop before running into him.

"Watch where you're going, you foreign bastard!"

Israel was about to snarl that _he _had stepped in _her _way, but then she stopped. This man hadn't spoken in the Spanish accent she'd heard all morning. What was it…? She searched the memories of her pieces.

"…Italian?" she said. "You're just as much a foreigner here as I am!"

"Like hell I am!" the man laughed. "I lived here for a _very _long time. But that bastard Spain couldn't hold me forever! Not Romano!"

Israel shook her head. "Could you just direct me to Spain's house?"

"That depends," said Romano. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Israel."

Romano's eyes widened. "The land of Christ…!"

Israel sighed. "I'll find it myself…" she muttered, walking around South Italy and continuing on her way.

She barely even remembered the man people called Jesus Christ. When he had shown up, he'd called himself Joshua, and Israel had been far too busy battling Ancient Rome to pay him any mind. Many of her pieces had been tortured for the crime of killing him, which for the life of her she couldn't remember ever doing.

_Why would I kill one of my own? _Israel thought.

"Hey, wait!" Romano called, hurrying after her. "It's this way. Follow me!"

Israel hesitated but followed him around a corner and down another street, confused by his sudden offer.

"So, what do you need in Spain's house?" Romano asked as they walked.

It was strange to hear him use a sentence without an expletive. _Why the sudden reversal of attitude? What does he want?_

"A piece of myself," Israel replied, reasoning that it couldn't hurt to tell him.

"Oh." Romano frowned and muttered something under his breath, but then he brightened again.

"That big one's Spain's," he said, pointing. "It's starting to fall apart a bit; he's running out of money, the old asshole…"

Israel looked where he was indicating and her eyes immediately jumped to a tiny window, where a tanned-skinned, dark-eyed face was staring back at her.

The Israel-let's eyes widened, and her mouth formed a name: _Hadassah._

The face disappeared from the window, and Israel ran up to the front door, which was already partially open. She entered the house just as the Israel-let came stumbling out into her arms.

"Hadassah!" she gasped. "You've come!"

"Of course, I've come," said Israel, looking her Spanish piece over. The girl was small, like she'd been when she'd escaped Egypt, easy enough for the young adult Israel to carry. Her feet were bare, and as Israel searched she found the reason why she had stumbled: her soles and palms were burned, the skin nearly black and, in some places, torn away.

"We'll heal," she whispered. "Now, let's get out of here."

The Israel-let nodded, and Israel stood, cradling her.

"What's going on?"

Israel looked up to see Spain entering the room.

"We are going home now," she said, calmly and coolly despite the anger boiling up inside her as she stood face-to-face with this nation that had caused her piece so much suffering.

"She's mine!" Spain protested, striding towards her. "You can't—!"

"Yes, I can. Come, _yalda_."

The Israel-let nodded again, and then her body began to glow with a blue light. As Spain watched, eyes wide with shock, the little girl merged with her main part, fading away with the light.

Israel lowered her now-empty arms and looked over at the gaping Spain.

"You may have held her prisoner," she said. "You may have hurt her and crushed her hopes, but she was never _yours_. She's me. I am Israel, and Israel will not be crushed."

Then she turned and walked out of Spain's house, closing the door behind her.

As she headed back up the street, Romano hurried to catch up.

"Look," he said. "I don't think you know what you're doing. Not everyone's as easy to walk all over as that weak bastard Spain is. You've been stuck in England's house, right? So you don't know how bad things are for you out here. People don't like Israel."

"That makes it all the more important that I find my pieces," Israel replied, not stopping.

"But if anything happens to you… You need to exist, for Christ to return…"

_Of course. Rome's in South Italy. The Pope's in Rome. Christian central, right there._

"Let's focus on the present, and the fact that my people need me, before we debate about the messiah," Israel said. "Now, if you're not going to be any help, then shove off."

Romano stopped walking, watching her continue down the road.

"Idiot… She won't last a week out here, not with people like Germany slinking around…"

_**To be continued…**_


	8. Hadassah Rejected

_**Israel's search continued. She entered country after country, confronting the nations and leaving with another piece returned to her. The conditions that her people had been living in—persecution, imprisonment, enslavement, murder—both horrified and revolted her, but that only increased her determination to press on, even as the world around her, as it attempted to mend, began to fall to pieces itself…**_

The Belgian Israel-let smiled blissfully up at her main part as she glowed and vanished. Belgium herself had left the room to answer the telephone.

_She was politer than most nations have been… _Israel thought, turning to leave.

"Um, Israel?" Belgium called, coming back into the foyer. "The phone's for you. It's England."

Israel nodded and followed her into the next room, picking up the white receiver.

"England?"

"Israel!" the voice on the other end gasped. "Listen. You've got to get out of Europe, now. Things are starting to get nasty again… I think we're going to war. It's too dangerous for you to be running around."

"I can't leave," Israel argued. "Not while my people need me. I have to find the rest of my parts. I'm so close to being complete again…and I can't just abandon them!"

England sighed. "Look. I can get you passage to America. You have a piece there anyway, right? You stay there until we get things calmed down again."

Israel didn't say anything for several moments, thinking.

"Israel?" England said. "Dassah, are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Just do this for me. Please?"

"All right," said Israel. "But I won't wait for long."

"Good. Be safe, all right?"

Israel set down the phone. Belgium was watching her curiously.

"Thank you for your assistance," Israel said before turning and walking out of Belgium's house.

_**And so Israel crossed the Atlantic Ocean, towards what had been promised to be a safe haven. However, the welcome she received there was not what she had expected…**_

"What do you mean, 'no visas'?" Israel demanded.

The captain shrugged.

"Apparently, the Cuban government has changed its visa regulations," he said. "We can't even get off of the _St. Louis_. Without visas, we'll never be allowed into the States, either."

Israel frowned. The sea voyage had been tedious enough even with the promise of safety in America, just after a stop for visas in Havana. Now this…

"Continue on to Florida, Captain Schroeder," she said. "Visas or none, we _will_ get to America."

The captain nodded, but looked uncertain.

Israel went back out onto the deck. She stood staring out to sea as the ship began to move again.

Running away. That was what she was doing, under England's advice, by being here, trying to get entry to America instead of continuing through Europe, trying to save her pieces.

_Then again, _she thought, _England said that it would be too dangerous. I won't do my people any good by getting myself killed._

_Still…_

This leg of the journey passed by almost without her noticing it, and then the _St. Louis _was nearing the Florida coast.

There was a shot. Everyone on deck ducked, but there were no more after that.

"That was the Coast Guard," Captain Schroeder muttered to Israel. "It seems that our arrival is unwanted."

"Stop the ship here," she said. "I'll go to shore myself. If America has a problem with us being here, then he'll have to bring it up with me."

**XXX**

Israel got out of the little boat. There was a man standing nearby, one with messy blond hair.

_America. _Israel walked up to him.

"And just where do you think you're going?" America asked.

"Into your country," Israel replied. "I have a ship of refugees, and England's word. You must let us in."

"You can't stay here," said America. "I'm busy enough without messing in Cuban affairs. He didn't give your people visas, did he?"

"He didn't, but that's not the point!" Israel said. "We need help."

"Even if he had, I have an immigrant quota," America continued, ignoring her. "And it's full. So there. Besides, this isn't something that I _want _to be involved in."

Israel frowned. "You son of a—"

"Hadassah! Hadassah!"

Israel turned to see one of her pieces running up to them, arms extended.

"Are we going home now?" the Israel-let asked, grabbing one of Israel's hands.

"It doesn't look like we have a choice," Israel said. "But travel through Europe is getting much too dangerous."

"That's okay," said the Israel-let. "We've waited this long, we can wait some more, right? You can stay here until it's safe."

"No, you can't," said America. "_You _can leave, but _she _can't come in."

The Israel-let frowned up at him. "That's not fair."

America shrugged. "It's fair for me."

"You're always talking about how you're the hero," the Israel-let accused. "Be the hero now, and help us!"

America hesitated, and for a moment it looked like he might relent. Then he shook his head.

"No," he said. Then he turned and walked away.

Israel sighed. "Let's go, _yalda. _We don't need him."

The Israel-let nodded, and then she glowed and merged with her main part. Israel got back into the little boat.

_**With no choice but to return to Europe, Israel did so, justifying her actions with the fact that now she could continue her search. She focused on her remaining pieces, trying to remember where she had still to go…**_

Israel glanced around warily as she walked down the street, fingering the yellow Star of David that was sewn to her jacket. Everywhere around her were stores with the angry signs on their door and in their windows.

_Jeuden verboten. No Jews._

…

"They tell us to leave, but we have nowhere to go," the woman said, holding her baby in her lap as she whispered her story to Israel. "First the pogroms, and now this edict…"

Israel placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "There will be a place in the world for us," she said. "If there was only hate in the world, it would fall apart."

"That is true…" said the woman. "My husband is trying to get us passage to America, but it is impossible."

"Have faith," said Israel. "If not America, then perhaps the Holy Land."

The woman's eyes widened. "Do you really think so?"

Israel smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

"Someday, maybe."

…

Her people could not get jobs. Her people could not go to school, or even own a bike. The children stayed at home in fear. There were rumors, too. Talk of ghettos and camps, of orders to take her people away and kill them.

She could only hope that they were, in fact, rumors.

…

Israel walked down the docks, thinking about where she still needed to go. There were very few pieces still on their own, but they were in Poland, Germany, and Russia…

"Hadassah!"

She turned, and the little girl, her Russian piece, stumbled into her arms.

"_Yalda…_" she whispered.

"Hadassah," the Israel-let gasped again. "Thought you were here…"

"Are you all right?" Israel asked.

"Me? I'm fine," said the Israel-let. "I guess Russia got bored with torture, so he kicked me out. It was difficult crossing through Europe, especially Poland, but here I am."

"And with me you shall stay," Israel said. "While we go to Poland."

"It's not safe," said the Israel-let. "Not safe for you there."

"I'm not about to abandon any piece of me, especially not to the most dangerous of places," Israel asserted, taking the Israel-let back into herself and heading east.

_**Israel went to Poland's house, hoping that he would be compliant, but doubting that she would receive any aid after America's rejection.**_

Israel knocked on the door and waited. It was a long time before anyone came to answer it, and then it only opened a crack.

"Like, what do you _want_?" Poland asked.

"There's a piece of me here," Israel replied. "I want her back."

Poland frowned. "And _why _should I let you in?"

"Because it would be preferable to me breaking in."

The door opened all the way.

"If you can find her, then you can have her," he said. "I'm not, like, completely sure where she is…and I don't really care…"

Israel pushed by him and began to search the house, entering every room, checking under chairs and beds, calling to her piece with her voice and her mind. Eventually, she came to a little door at the end of a hallway. She tried the handle, but it was locked.

"_Yalda?_" she called. "Are you in there?"

There was a muffled reply. Israel took a step backwards and kicked at the lock until it broke and the door opened, revealing a tiny, dark closet in which the Israel-let sat crouched in a very uncomfortable position.

"Hadassah…?"

Israel took her piece into her arms.

"Oh, so _that's _where she was," Poland said, standing behind her. "I remember now."

"You locked her in a _closet?_" Israel hissed.

"Uh, _yeah,_" said Poland. "Her in a closet, her people in ghettos. Keeps them out of the way, you know? Go ahead and take her; I was just going to give her to Germany, anyway…

The Israels merged, and then she turned to Poland, shaking with fury.

"Why do you all treat me like such…such…?"

She couldn't find a foul enough word.

"I'm leaving," she announced, walking back towards the door. Poland shrugged and followed nonchalantly.

Before Israel reached the door, someone pounded loudly on it from outside. She glanced back at Poland, who shrugged again.

"Might be Germany…" he muttered.

Israel opened the door. There stood Germany, frowning down at her, one hand clamped around the arm of—

"Hadassah! Hadassah!" the German Israel-let squealed, struggling against Germany's grasp. The taller nation shoved the little girl towards her main piece, who held her tightly.

"T-Take me away from here!" the Israel-let sobbed. "Germany, he… He…"

"Hush, now," said Israel. "It's time to come back."

The Israel-let glowed and vanished. Israel straightened.

"Thank you," she said to Germany, as politely as she could, given the anger and fear that was roiling inside of her. "I shall be going now."

She tried to pass through the door, but Germany placed an arm in her way.

"You're not going anywhere," he said.

"Who…Who says I'm not?" Israel challenged, trying to sound stronger than she felt.

"My boss," was the curt reply. Suddenly, Germany's hand shot forward and he grabbed her wrist. Israel cried out and struck at him with her other limbs, only to have them pinned as well as she was forced to the floor.

"Poland!" she shrieked. "Help me!"

The only response was laughter, Poland's laughter.

"Don't, like, get anything on the carpet, now!" he laughed as he left the room.

Israel shouted at him, shouted at Germany, tried to get loud enough for someone to hear and help, but no help came.

Above her, Germany drew a knife. Israel's eyes widened as she saw the moonlight glint off of the blade.

She screamed.

_**To be continued…**_


	9. Hadassah in Pain

_**Israel lay in the dark, naked, alone, and very much in pain. Her people continued to suffer as well, but their pain only caused hers to increase, and she had no hope of overcoming it all.**_

_**Sometimes she was awake, sometimes she was asleep. She couldn't tell the difference anymore. The pain was always the same.**_

_**And when the pain wasn't on her body, it was in her mind…**_

"Hadassah…" the voice called. "Esther, where are you?"

Israel turned around in a circle, trying to find the speaker amidst all of the gray, swirling clouds.

"_Hineini," _she replied. "Here I am. Where are you?"

"Essie…"

The voice was hauntingly familiar, and although it used a nickname she had learned to hate, she didn't mind this voice saying it…

A shadowy form stepped out of the clouds, one hand reaching out towards her.

"Essie," Mesopotamia said again.

"Father?" Israel gasped. "Father Mesopotamia… Is it really you?"

"Why did you leave me, Esther?" Mesopotamia asked. "Why did you go with Ancient Egypt?"

"I was afraid," Israel said, a tear sliding down her cheek as she looked at th . "I thought that Sumeria…"

"Essie, why did you leave me?" the ancient empire asked again. "Why did you go? It was terrible when you left, terrible."

"I didn't mean any harm…"

"'_I didn't mean any harm!_'" another voice mocked. Suddenly, Mesopotamia was gone, and Sumeria was standing in his place.

"After you left us, he dwindled away," she sneered. "It was grief, you know. Grief for his precious little _Essie_."

"S-Stop it!" Israel stammered. She tried to back away as Sumeria took a step towards her, but she found that she couldn't move a muscle.

"You know I'm right," Sumeria hissed. "I was right about the empires, wasn't I? You've been tortured and beaten and kicked around and shoved away…and it's not over. Oh, it's _far _from over!

"I can see how you will be," she continued, taking yet another step. "Scarred and decrepit, hated by all who surround you. You'll be bombed and shunned, without rights, without a say in how the world is run. Your neighbors will never accept you. They will seek to destroy you!"

"That can't be true…" Israel whispered. "You're lying. You lie!"

"There will never be peace!" Sumeria shouted, right in her face now. "Only war and death, and pain. The pain will never end, _Esther_. There will always be more pain, more pain, more pain!"

And now it wasn't Sumeria standing before her; it was Germany.

"More pain," he snarled, raising his knife and grabbing her shoulder. Every cut on her body seared in agony at his touch.

Israel screamed and lashed out at Germany, who clamped his other hand over her mouth. She struggled against his tightening grip, tears streaming down her cheek, her limbs burning, her lungs straining to make sound…

…

"_Prussia! _Let _go! _You're scaring her!"

"If she keeps up that wailing, she'll wake up West, and I _really _don't want to have to explain how you two got into his basement! That would be completely _not awesome!_"

"We need to make her trust us, aru. She's _terrified_, aru."

Three hushed voices were somewhere in the darkness above her. Israel could feel the cold floor against her bare skin. Her entire body was one continuous ache.

"Israel, please, calm down," one voice, a woman's voice, whispered into her ear. "We are friends. We are not going to hurt you, but you have to be quiet so that we can escape."

Israel's eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and she began to make out faces, three faces of varying shades. The woman's was the darkest, while the other two were paler men.

"We're not going to hurt you," the woman repeated. "Prussia, get off of her and find something to cover her with."

"She'll just start screaming again!" the white-haired, red-eyed man with his hand over her mouth hissed.

"No, she won't. Israel, please be quiet for us, please. Prussia, go get a blanket or something."

The hand slowly lifted from Israel's mouth and hovered there, waiting, but she made no noise, although she was trembling. The man got up and walked out of sight.

"_Ai-ya…_" the other man gasped. "So many wounds, aru…"

"Hush," said the woman. "Israel, my name is India, and this is China. The guy over there is Prussia. This is Germany's basement. We're going to get you out of here. Do you understand?"

No, Israel did not understand. Her wide, dark eyes were darting around the dark room, taking in the nations around her, looking for Germany, looking for the knife.

_Where's the knife? The pain… Oh, G-d…_

She was naked, she realized. Israel tried to curl up, to cover herself and to make herself a smaller target, safer, but it was too painful to move, and she was trembling too hard to control her limbs. She whimpered softly as she waited to be attacked.

_Sumeria's right. They're going to hurt me, they're going to kill me, oh G-d, oh G-d, oh G-d…_

"Hey, relax, aru…" China said, touching her shoulder. Israel flinched as though he had stung her, letting out a short squeak of alarm as she rolled away, which turned into a squeal of pain as she moved her protesting torso.

"Shut her up!" Prussia shushed, walking back over. "Use this…"

India took the blanket from him, frowning slightly at a stain on it but deciding that it would have to do.

"We're not going to hurt you, Israel," she said, gently wrapping the wounded nation in the blanket. "The pain is over."

Israel said nothing in response. She was too confused, too afraid to think coherently.

_Why haven't they attacked yet? What are they waiting for?_

There was a creaking sound as someone moved above them. All eyes fearfully turned to the ceiling.

"Germany…" India muttered. Israel shuddered and closed her eyes, but she could still see the knife through her closed lids…

"Head him off, aru," China urged Prussia. "Distract him, aru. I'm sure you'll do an 'awesome' job of it, aru."

Prussia nodded, grinning slightly. "You bet it'll be an awesome distraction," he chuckled, turning and walking away, going back upstairs.

"Israel, can you hear me?" India whispered. "We have to go, _now._"

"N-No…" Israel's voice quavered. "Germany…"

"He's not down here, aru," China said. "We're not going to let him get you, aru."

"Open your eyes, Israel," India urged. "Do you see Germany?"

Israel opened her eyes. The face in front of her was brown and brunette with near-black eyes, not pale and blond with blue eyes. She shook her head nervously.

"That's right. He's not here. Now let's go. China, help me get her up."

Israel whimpered as two pairs of hands lifted her to her feet, and was gently hushed. Her legs were trembling too much to hold herself up, and she still hurt all over, so China ended up carrying her, keeping the blanket snugly wrapped around her body.

India crept up the staircase and glanced around.

"The coast is clear," she called softly.

The three nations hurried upstairs, down the hallway, and out the front door without meeting opposition, but they didn't stop until they were several streets away.

"Where do we take her now, aru?" China asked. "Back to England, aru?"

"I'm not going to England!" India protested. "He's been brutal to my people. I say Switzerland. Not even Germany would dare to chase her there."

"If Switzerland doesn't shoot us on sight, aru…"

"No…"

Israel stirred, weakly wiggling her way out of China's grasp. He set her down on her feet, keeping a steadying hand on her arm.

"I'm…I'm going home," Israel slowly said, trying to stay upright as she wobbled on unsteady legs. "Not England, not Switzerland…home. Home to Jerusalem."

"Are you sure, aru?"

Israel looked up at the taller nation's face, over at India, and then back up at China.

_That expression on their faces… Concern? Is that concern? Sumeria said that everyone would hate me… but was that even real? She's dead…but she was there…_

"I've never been more sure," she said. "I've been away for far too long. I've been in someone else's land for far too long. It's time to be Israel again. It's time for Hadassah bat Abraham v'Sarah to go home."

India nodded. "I understand," she said, placing a hand on Israel's shoulder. Israel flinched and nearly pulled away, but she forced herself to relax.

_It's not Germany. Not Germany! It's over. I'm out. Calm _down_, Hadassah!_

"I will take her home," India continued. "China, you get back to the rest of the Allies. The sooner this war is ended, the better."

China nodded. "I'll do that, aru. Good luck, Hadassah, aru."

He removed his hand, and Israel's weight shifted first to India and then, shakily, on her own two feet.

"_Toda_," she said.

Neither China nor India spoke Hebrew, but the sentiment was there in the word. _Thank you._

China nodded and smiled, and then he turned and walked to the corner of the street, where he furtively glanced in both directions before hurrying off into the shadows, Israel staring after him.

"Israel." India pulled lightly on her arm. "Israel, let's go."

Israel nodded and let India guide her away into the night.


	10. Hadassah at Home

_**Somewhere in her Diaspora, Israel had heard that the best part of a journey was returning home at the end. The place that India left the scarred nation was indeed her home, but her journey had yet to leave her alone…**_

Israel woke up with a jolt, sitting up in her bed, breathing hard. She rolled up one sleeve of her nightgown and stared at her arm, at the numerous overlapping scars. Not bleeding, dry. Sealed by time.

_My bed, my house, _she thought. Forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths. _I'm home._

The nightmares were so vivid, though, with the knife entering her flesh again and again…

"Enough," Israel snarled, sliding out of bed and crossing over to her closet.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed and outside, jogging down the street. Her eyes focused only on the space in front of her, her mind only on the exercise. The only sound was that of her feet on the ground; it was barely past dawn, and so few others were even awake.

The run through the streets of her young cities had become a part of her daily routine. Each day she ran farther, faster. She kept herself going long after she tired, building her endurance, making herself strong.

Because the stronger she was, the harder it would be for anyone to turn her nightmares into a repeated reality.

Elsewhere, nations were arguing about her, she knew. Some, including England and his brother America, were calling for her independence and acceptance. Others, those close to her geographically, wanted her dead, gone, out of the world forever.

Eventually, the United Nations would vote and decide her fate.

Israel slowed to a walk, calmly looking at her surroundings. She had left the more-modernized buildings some time ago, and now she was out in the desert. Here her homeland was barren, sandy. It was what many nations saw when they looked at her, if they ever bothered to look at her. She was a little strip of land with sparse vegetation, no oil, and no order.

But Israel knew something that those nations didn't think to look for.

She was strengthening, in more ways than just physically. Every day, more Jews were moving to her, driven by the hostilities of the outside world. They brought knowledge with them, knowledge of construction, farming, technology, and government. Her cities and _kibbutzim, _the farming communities, were growing. Irrigation was being used more and more, bringing water to the barren areas, to the trees that were being planted each day. Her army was growing, as well, as more and more people—_Israelis_—pledged themselves to the protection of their homeland.

Even if the rest of the world decided that she should not be, Israel would not give up easily. She _could not _give up.

Someone's footsteps sounded nearby, dulled by the sand but still audible. Israel turned and smiled at the camel standing behind her.

"We've lasted this long, haven't we?" she said to the camel, reaching up and petting its hairy neck. "Of course, I have no idea where _you've _been these past few centuries, but you seem healthy enough."

The camel snorted, and Israel grinned.

"It's nice to have you back, Aaron," she said. "_Shalom, gamal. Shalom._"

_**To be continued…**_

**XXX**

**A.N.: **Yeah, I know, long absence, short chapter, blah blah blah… You know, there's this thing called "Real Life," I'm not sure if you're too familiar with it? Anyway, it takes up a _lot _of time; it's very annoying like that. But neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, nor dark of Real Life shall keep me from my fan-fiction! Things should get exciting in Israel's history again really soon-ish. And it's almost summer for me.


	11. Hadassah Established

_**Finally, the United Nations declared that the British Mandate in the Middle East end, and the land be divided into separate portions for Arabs and Jews. Israel was one of these portions, a slim, twisting stretch of land surrounded by others. She knew that such a position left her in danger of attack, without an easily defensible border, but she also knew that she had waited long enough to be accepted…**_

It should have been an exciting, joyful day, and for most of her people it was, but Hadassah herself was finding it difficult to join in on the celebrative mood that was coursing through her veins. She stared silently at the map on the wall of the room she stood in, which depicted the borders that the United Nations had approved the previous November. Israel was a small streak of yellow among blocks of green. The names of her neighbors, the Arab nations, were familiar to her now: Lebanon, Syria, Transjordan, Saudi Arabia, Arab Palestine…and Egypt.

She didn't want to think about that last one. Not now.

Arab Palestine, however, supplied a distraction. It was actually a collective term for several small pieces of land that hers curled around. At one point, it even split her in two, and the eastern portion of Arab Palestine held her city, her Jerusalem.

_It should be mine, _she thought. _I built it. I lived in it. Jerusalem is my city, my wonderful city. But so is the price for peace. The United Nations said that it would be an international zone, so I'll at least be able to visit. It would be wonderful to have it as my capital…_

_But so is the price of peace._

If peace was what came of this. She hadn't missed the glares that the Arab nations had shot at her, the frowns that had sent wary prickles running up and down the scars on her skin. They did not want her there.

She had no intention of leaving.

Her mind cast back to the meeting in the Tel Aviv museum earlier that day, where she had watched the men in the Council pore over the long strip of paper that spelled out her existence. That paper held the words of her Declaration of Establishment. She knew it by heart. One thousand words, beginning with the history of her people, both in the land and during the Diaspora, and continuing to declare that it was her right to be here. At the end, it called for peace with her neighbors and all the nations of the world, especially those of her people who were still under oppression.

"The state of Israel will be open for Jewish immigration and for the Ingathering of the Exiles," she whispered, closing her eyes and quoting the words she saw there, Hebrew letters inked with a permanency she hoped was more than just wishes. "It will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations."

Why, then, did the Arab nations glare and mutter under their breaths? They had land; she was barely a sixth of one percent of the Arab world. They had oil, a valuable resource, and she had none. They had a new neighbor who was willing to work with them, and who wanted to do what was best for the people. Wasn't what was best for the people what mattered?

Israel could not answer her questions. She could only be wary, and hope that her worries were nothing but fears left over from a traumatic half-century.

_**Unfortunately, there was more substance to her fears than she could have imagined. The next morning Israel awoke to find that five powerful Arab neighbors had launched invasions.**_

_**To be continued...**_

**XXX**

**A.N.: **Israel's quote is directly from the Declaration of the Establishment of the State of Israel, May 14, 1948.


	12. Hadassah at War

_**Later, humans would divide this time of Israel's existence into battles and wars, individually named segments: the War of Independence, the Six-Day War, the War of Attrition, the Yom Kippur War. For Israel herself, it was a time of constant motion, of pains and successes, of several sudden memories that stood out above all others…**_

It was difficult to discern anything from the chaos around her. There were shouts, but were they orders or cries for help? There was gunfire, but was it enemy or friendly? There was blood, but was it her enemies', or her own?

Israel tightened her grip on her gun. Everything was heat and noise and confusion, and people running around, and…

Then she saw him.

He was standing near one of his tanks, saying nothing, only silently looking around at the battle. The jackal, Anubis, sat at his feet, just as he always had.

It was Egypt.

She hadn't laid eyes on her former adoptive brother in centuries.

"_Mitzrayim_…" she whispered.

He looked her way then, as though in response to her quiet call, but if he saw her, he gave no sign. His eyes moved onward past her face, as though she were not there.

…

"_Aluf Bat-Abraham!_"

Israel turned to the messenger, who ran up to her, saluted, and breathlessly delivered his message: "_Hu ka'n_."

"He is here…" Hadassah whispered. Quickly dismissing the messenger, she hurried across the camp to the tent where she knew the newcomer would be.

"Hiya, Dassah!" America said, leaning back in his chair, kicking his legs up onto the table in front of him.

"Guess what?" the western nation continued. "So, my boss has decided that you have strategic value, so I'm here to help you now! Of course, we're still gonna sell stuff to Egypt and Saudi Arabia and those other guys, but you're on the list now, too! And my boss wants you to send some jets over Jordan, to scare off those Syrians for us, and then maybe we can talk about… about improving relations, and… and stuff…"

America trailed off, unnerved. Israel hadn't moved since she'd entered the tent, silently staring at him with an expression that wasn't quite a glare but wasn't anything positive either.

Once she was certain that he had finished babbling, Hadassah opened her mouth.

"What are you doing just sitting here?" she snapped. "There are people in danger, children to protect; get out there and do some good already!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" America jumped to his feet. "The hero's on it!"

He ran out of the tent, much like a frightened rabbit. Israel sighed and shook her head.

_It's been decades since I stood on his shores, but he hasn't changed a bit… Well, now I have his support, for the moment, at least…_

…

Israel shoved her hair out of her face—the band holding her braid together had snapped long ago—and continued to run up the hill, leading her army to the northeastern border. There she saw them, the Syrian soldiers, their nation himself at the front. Syria glared up at her and barked an order to his soldiers, who raised their weapons to aim at Israel.

"What use is this attack?" Hadassah challenged, unflinching. She had stared down the barrels of too many guns to fear them anymore. "Haven't you seen that I am going nowhere? Stop this endless fighting; enough lives have been lost. Let us negotiate, Syria; I will give land for peace."

The Arab nation laughed darkly.

"Did you hear something?" he asked his soldiers. "I heard nothing but the wind in the sand. There is no nation there. Israel does not exist. I do not recognize her, and neither does Jordan, nor Egypt, nor anyone else in the world! How can we negotiate with something that does not even exist?"

"Syria!" Israel shouted angrily, but the army was already charging towards her, and she heard the harsh retorts of many guns…

…

Her body seemed heavier than it should have been as she walked down the hallway towards the conference room. She was tired, tired of fighting, tired of anger and fear and a war that never seemed to near its end. She ached as well, smarting from thousands of wounds.

But she couldn't think about her exhaustion and pain, not now.

She opened the conference room door. The nation was already there, sitting at the table with his head hung low over his chest.

He had sunk so low, this once-prince of the Nile. Low enough to negotiate a treaty.

Their governments and bosses had done most of the work. Now it was up to her to finalize the deal.

"_Shalom, Mitzrayim_," she said softly.

He slowly looked up, and the contrast between the confident empire's son she remembered and this beaten man was shocking to her.

"So," he said, his voice so low she could barely hear it. "What do you want of me now?"

"Only peace," Hadassah replied. "An end to war. There's no reason to continue to fight."

There was a pause that lasted several moments. Israel broke it by walking over to a nearby door and opening it, revealing a side room.

Inside were four beds, and four sleeping children: Golan Heights, West Bank, Gaza Strip, and Sinai Peninsula. Israel had captured each of them in war—Golan from Syria, West Bank from Jordan, and Gaza and Sinai from Egypt. Each were strategic, some for protection like Golan, who had mountains that Syria would love to be able to drop bombs from, others for resources like Sinai, who was rich in oil.

"Take them," Israel said.

"What?" said Egypt.

"Take your children home," Israel repeated.

Egypt stared in disbelief. Then he stood and quietly walked into the side room, over to where Sinai lay in her bed. He reached out a hand and touched her cheek; her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him.

The Arab nation turned back to look at Israel, a strange expression on his face.

"Once, long ago, you were at my mercy, and my mother told me to let you go," he said. "Ever since that day, I have seen you lying on the shores of the sea, small and helpless, unable to resist capture, and I have wondered why my mother did so, when it would have been so easy to crush you.

"I believe I understand, now."

Israel didn't know how to respond. She silently watched as Egypt took Sinai by the hand and led her out through the conference room, towards the door.

"Wait," Hadassah called, setting a hand on the doorknob of the side room. "What about Gaza?"

"Keep him," Egypt replied, not turning around. "He's been trouble for years."

The door closed behind him, and then Israel closed the side room door, and she was alone once again.

_**To be concluded…**_


	13. Hadassah Continues

_**Months passed. Years passed. Israel had been a country for over half a century, and still she had yet to find peace…**_

The explosion rocked Israel's kitchen, sending her tumbling into a cabinet. Cursing, the nation crawled over to the stove and opened it. Smoke billowed out.

_At least the rest of the house is still standing this time… _she thought, coughing as she got back to her feet and stumbled into the hallway.

"Gaza!" she shouted, but there was no response. She entered the living room, where a territory with the appearance of a pre-teen boy was sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"West Bank, where is Gaza?" Israel asked.

The boy shrugged. "Around," he said.

Israel sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to get a better answer, and continued her search.

She finally found the little territory nonchalantly sitting on the backyard fence.

"Gaza, what was that?" she demanded.

A smirk formed on Gaza's face. "I think it was Ashkelon. That city's been begging for a good bombing, and we had a rocket handy."

Israel leaned against the fence, rubbing her temples. This was a headache that she did not need today.

"What do you want, Gaza?" she asked.

"I'm hungry," he complained. "And there isn't enough water."

"I give you more than enough food, and if there _is _actually a water shortage, you should have thought about that before you started building swimming pools in Gaza City."

Gaza pouted. "My people are hurt. Your soldiers keep attacking."

"If you'd stop bombing, I'd stop attacking."

"You don't need to attack the schools and hospitals!"

"You _keep your bombs_ in the schools and hospitals!"

"My people are helpless!"

"Your people refuse aid!"

"You won't let us rule ourselves!"

"With what government are you to rule yourselves?"

"You keep building illegal settlements in West Bank's land."

"Settlements in _my _capital city are _not _illegal!"

"The media says you're the antagonist. So there."

"The media's wrong," Israel snarled.

Gaza smiled. "Well, there's nothing you can do about that, now, is there? And soon the world's gonna get tired of watching your completely unjust attacks of innocent Palestinians on television, and they'll come and save us from your apartheid regime."

Israel turned around and walked away.

"When my dad and my uncles come for me, oh, you'll be sorry then!" Gaza called after her.

Israel whirled around. "For the thousandth time, Gaza, they're not coming!" she shouted. "They don't want you! They just want everyone to focus on me instead of all the horrible things they're doing in their own homes. So shut up, stop fighting me, and let's actually make things better in this miserable little piece of the world!"

Gaza stuck out his tongue at her. Israel let out an exasperated grunt and stormed off.

_The cheeky little… Why can't he just… And his cousin's no better… This, and the other nations at my throat every other day… Will it ever end?_

Hadassah looked around. In her distraction, she'd wandered nearly to the opposite side of her city, and now she stood at the top of Mount Scopus. She could see the entirety of the old city from up here. Her city. It had changed much, but still it was her Jerusalem.

Israel sat down in the grass, Gaza's taunts still reverberating in her head, mixing with thousands of years of threats and curses into a cacophony of dissent. Loudest of all were the shouts of a hopeless girl in a ruined temple.

"_Scarred and decrepit, hated by all who surround you… The pain will never end, _Esther_."_

Hadassah rolled up her sleeve. There they were, the scars, same as they always were. They hadn't faded a bit. The probably never would.

_Maybe she was right, _Israel thought. _Maybe there'll never be anything but war, pain, and death. So many nations want me dead, and the others are indifferent at best… And it doesn't seem like it will ever end._

Israel drew her legs up to her chest and placed her face against her knees. _How long can I go on like this?_

After a long time, she heard footsteps. She ignored the sound; it was probably some tourist. Humans usually ignored her unless she wanted them to notice her.

The footsteps stopped nearby.

"_Salam, _Israel."

Israel looked up. There, standing just to her right, was Egypt.

She quickly got to her feet. "What do you want?"

For several moments, he just stared at her with that blank expression he wore so often nowadays.

"I want to show you something," he finally said.

Israel frowned slightly. "Show me what?"

"Something that I have found, and that I think you should see. In my country."

Israel hesitated. Despite their treaties, relations between her people and the Egyptians had become very strained due to the recent uprisings in Cairo. What if it was a trap? What if something went wrong while she was away?

He was waiting for an answer.

"…okay," Israel finally decided.

…

Egypt led her across the border without trouble, but instead of entering a city he went out into the desert. Eventually they arrived at a dig site, which seemed fresh but was oddly devoid of archeologists.

"I have told them to stay away," was the only answer Egypt gave when Israel voiced that observation.

Flashlights in hand, the two nations entered the narrow, underground hall.

"Is this a tomb?" Israel asked, ducking to avoid bumping her head on the low ceiling.

"No one was laid to rest here," Egypt replied. "But it is something special."

The hallway opened into a large chamber, dark everywhere their torchlight wasn't. Israel couldn't tell how big it was, but when Egypt next spoke, his soft, low voice echoed.

"Look here," he said, pointing his flashlight at the wall.

Israel looked. The wall was covered in ancient paint, hundreds of hieroglyphs surrounding what appeared to be scenes from daily Ancient Egyptian life. As she walked around the chamber, she saw people harvesting fields, and boats on the Nile, pharaohs giving orders to their subjects, priests making sacrifices to their gods…

She froze. Her flashlight had illuminated a woman's face, a face that was strangely familiar. She took a step closer, moving her flashlight, trying to see the whole picture.

It was a woman, dressed in the robes and jewels of a queen, sitting on a throne. In her lap was a little girl, who was smiling and reaching out to a young boy, a prince, standing in front of the throne. At the boys feet stood a black dog.

But it wasn't a queen, Israel realized. It was a kingdom. That was Ancient Egypt sitting there, and a young Egypt standing before her with his pup Anubis at his heel. And the girl on her lap…

It was her. Little Hadassah, the Egyptian princess. Nearly five thousand years before.

The happiest years of her life.

The light shifted; her hands were trembling.

"Why do you show me this?" she whispered to Egypt behind her, not taking her eyes off of the picture.

There was a long pause before Egypt replied.

"Things are very uncertain now, Israel," he finally said. "I do not know what my people will do next, what they will call me to do next. Time continues ever onward, and with it comes more trials. Those trials may involve me turning against you again.

"To the best of my knowledge, this is the only painting of you, myself, and my mother in existence. When I first saw this, I nearly ordered it destroyed, buried, forgotten. So much has changed since then; amidst the troubles of today, forgetting would be easiest.

"But I could not do it. I could not destroy this, this lone testament to what once was. What we once were. In my youth, you were my friend and sister, Hadassah. Whatever happens, I will never forget that."

Hadassah turned around. "_Mitzrayim…_" she whispered, too overcome to say anything else.

Egypt smiled. "We have both come so far, my sister. For over five thousand years we have continued to exist, you and I. Let us continue for five thousand more."

Israel nodded, tears welling up in her eyes as she took her brother's hand in hers.

_**Hasof**_


End file.
